telephoned for the doctor, who, I am afraid, had already had a
long day. He came, and we put in a pretty terrible night. It
developed afterward that the boy had brought along with his
luggage a bottle of liniment belonging to his employer. It was
made half of alcohol and half of witch hazel; and Thomas had
refreshed his journey with this!

He was in such shape that positively I didn't think we'd pull
him through--and I hoped we wouldn't. If I were a physician, I'd
let such cases gently slip away for the good of society; but you
should have seen Sandy work! That terrible lifesaving instinct
of his was aroused, and he fought with every inch of energy he
possessed.

I made black coffee, and helped all I could, but the details
were pretty messy, and I left the two men to deal with him alone
and went back to my room. But I didn't attempt to go to bed; I
was afraid they might be wanting me again. Toward four o'clock
Sandy came to my library with word that the boy was asleep and
that Percy had moved up a cot and would sleep in his room the
rest of the night. Poor Sandy looked sort of ashen and haggard
and done with life. As I looked at him, I thought about how
desperately he worked to save others, and never saved himself,
and about that dismal home of his, with never a touch of cheer,
and the horrible tragedy in the background of his life. All the
rancor I've been saving up seemed to vanish, and a wave of
sympathy swept over me. I stretched my hand out to him; he
stretched his out to me. And suddenly--I don't know--something
electric happened. In another moment we were in each other's
arms. He loosened my hands, and put me down in the big armchair.